


The Worthy Choice

by mirqueen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Written for a Request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slade Wilson makes a splash into Team Arrow and drives Felicity crazy. Only when Slade is on the verge of death does Felicity realize just how much. (Written for a Request)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worthy Choice

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_. It belongs to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: Written for a Slade/Felicity request — one SmoakStroke drabble coming right up. Let me tell you, it was a challenge for me to not write Olicity! Also posted on my Tumblr account [Hoodsmoaked](http://hoddsmoaked.tumblr.com/).

This pairing is not my cup of tea, but it’s fun to try another idea and see what you can do with it. :)

> **The Worthy Choice**

The first time she met him, he had just stabbed Oliver with a freakishly large knife.

Felicity Smoak was nothing if not fiercely protective of her best men, and in moments the hulking fighter found himself flat on his back with a gun pointed firmly at his head. Felicity had never been so glad for the new training Oliver began months earlier.

"What the hell, woman?!" the new man shouted at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You don’t touch him!" Felicity warned through gritted teeth, a little frightened of the fact her tone sounded eerily like Oliver’s hood voice.

"Well, I mean,  _obviously_!” the large man replied sarcastically, gesturing with his hands at the weapon she held, not appearing all that fazed by the barrel of a loaded gun in his face.

Felicity lifted her eyebrows in expectation, demanding his silence through her expression alone. The man rolled his eyes, but shut up without further question.

On her left, Felicity could hear Diggle helping Oliver up and into a chair. The hiss of pain and stilted groaning he tried to withhold infuriated the IT expert all the more. If looks could truly kill, she would have disintegrated the man under her guard within a millisecond.

"Let him go, Felicity," Oliver told her through clenched teeth as a thin-lipped Diggle cleaned the ghastly wound on the billionaire’s thigh.

"Why in the name of God would I do  _that_?” she snapped at him, not feeling a single ounce of trust for the man who had just wounded her closest friend.

"He won’t do it again," Oliver continued trying to convince her, to which she scoffed loudly after hearing him force back a cry of pain.

"I had a right to that one," the man on the floor dared to say, bringing forth an even more vicious glare from Felicity. "Well, I did! He left me with a stab wound in my leg on the bloody boat, I think I can return the favor before I start working with him on friendly terms!"

“ _Working_  with him?!” Felicity nearly screeched her fury to the rafters. “Oliver, what the—?”

"It’s true," the resident vigilante groaned as Diggle began to stitch his injury. "All of it. I expected this when I contacted him."

"How do you think I got the drop on him, anyway?" the ex-soldier asked her incredulously, although he didn’t move away from her steady aim. "Kid’s better than I am at this point, I can promise you that."

Felicity was about ready to punch the man if he didn’t shut up, even if she was starting to believe his story a little bit. The fact was, he still hurt Oliver. That wasn’t something she would ever tolerate.

"Felicity… Trust me."

As much as she wanted to deny it, she could hear the sincerity in Oliver’s voice.

"Fine," she snapped, still not prepared to be congenial to their new ‘band mate’ no matter what he proved. Felicity lowered the gun with reluctance, backing up as her so-called captive popped up on his feet like a much younger man.

"Thank you," he bowed mockingly, holding her incensed gaze as he moved. Felicity scowled at him, immediately moving to Oliver’s side to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Who the hell is he?" Diggle barked out suddenly. Although he had moved away from Oliver to throw away the used medical supplies, he hadn’t gone far, his eyes riveted to the new man like a hawk.

"John, Felicity… this is Slade Wilson," Oliver introduced them, and Felicity felt the proverbial sand shifting under her feet.

"From Lian Yu?" John double-checked, the look in his eyes something Felicity had never seen before. If she had to label it, she might call it insecurity, but she wasn’t entirely sure.

"Yeah, that’s the hellhole," the man — Slade — agreed bitterly as he sat on a seat across the way from the three of them. "Bloody purgatory."

"That they know," Oliver assured the man almost wryly, the usual dark tone filled with a touch of shared humor.

This was how they spent their nights for quite some time. Slade would do or say something ridiculous or rude, leaving Diggle and Felicity to argue with the man until Oliver intervened and then ending with Oliver and Slade sharing some inside joke from their mutual time on the island.

At some point, Diggle finally confessed to feeling left out. Felicity had suspected as much for a while, but John was like Oliver in that neither of them would admit their emotional disputes until it was practically too late.

Luckily for John Diggle, Oliver had grown a bit in that area of late, and it took him only two days longer to determine the same thing Felicity had. When she noticed the switch had flipped for Oliver, the IT expert felt a little rush of pride for him not needing to be told.

And if Diggle and Oliver suddenly began to go out for a brotherly burger at Big Belly every Tuesday night, no one questioned it. Least of all Slade, who seemed glad of the free night to explore his new habitat.

More to the point, to explore Felicity’s work space.

Constantly.

Perhaps the better word was invade or oppress, but Felicity wasn’t exactly picky about it. Simply put, the man drove her totally up the wall. He wouldn’t stop asking questions. Not just vigilante-related questions, but questions about her technological and intellectual skills; and deep, personal, probing questions Felicity had no intention of answering.

Not until the night he nearly died. While Oliver battled China White and half the Triad on the other side of the Glades, Slade battled Bronze Tiger and the other half of the Triad nearer to home base.

The Australian fighter dragged himself to the lair with a deep stab wound. He had fought and won, but the cost was high. They did everything they could do, but they couldn’t stop the bleeding.

Diggle thought Slade was going to die.

Slade accepted that he was going die.

Felicity realized she didn’t want him to.

She saw in that moment how all those little incidents when he asked her personal questions and watched her hacking databases and gave her that odd little crooked smile… it all added up to admiration. He’d never spoken a word; he had shown her in actions how much he admired and respected her. Not just for her looks or her hacking skills, but for the way she thought and the things she loved and the people she cared about.

If either of the men beside her were shocked when Felicity burst into tears and started responding to all of those unanswered questions, they never showed it. Both of them just held onto her hands and let her babble her way along. And when she embarrassed herself by admitting how deeply attractive she had always found Oliver to be, Slade actually chuckled with Diggle.

When Slade’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed to a halt, Felicity wailed into the still air of the foundry.

"No!" she screamed, beating his still chest furiously. "Don’t you dare die on me! I haven’t answered all of your questions! I haven’t even kissed you or gone on a date with you or asked  _you_  those personal questions. We still have to talk about us! You have to wake up. Do you hear me? Wake up!”

Felicity didn’t realize she’d been shaking Slade’s unresponsive body until Diggle took firm hold of her arms and pulled her away.

If ever Oliver had perfect timing, it was that moment. Despite his own injuries, the leather-clad hero sprinted into the basement as if on air, rushing to jab his fingers into the side of his old friend’s neck. Diggle moved to stop him, no doubt imagining the younger man had become lost in grief.

Oliver snapped at he former soldier to seal up the wound, and even while in tears, Felicity could see the sane, logical fire in his blue eyes. It was her pleading that made Diggle agree.

While the reluctant surgeon worked in silent focus on his seemingly dead patient, Oliver moved to Felicity’s side and wrapped her up in his arms as if she was an extension of his own body. Unable to watch John trying to fix one of the strongest people she had ever met, Felicity buried her face in Oliver’s chest and let her tears continue to fall. Her heroic partner gave no words to comfort either of them, his reassurance coming from the warmth and strength of his arms.

When Diggle finished his work and Oliver released Felicity in order to jab Slade again, the infuriatingly inquisitive man popped awake with a wild-eyed gaze that only quieted once he saw her.

In the depths of his warm eyes, Felicity saw more than simple admiration or respect, and knew she had never made a choice more worthy than to begin sharing her life with him.

* * *

 


End file.
